Well, we finally arrived in Beijing after another short flight. Unfortunately for everyone, this flight had to endure the presence of Child from Hell #2, who fake cried for attention the majority of the way and then actually cried toward the end because of the pressure changes as the plane descended. I’m pretty sure no one felt any sympathy. Even one of the sweet flight attendants who I had previously seen earnestly trying to console another baby didn’t try very hard with this one.
When we arrived in Beijing, Tony and Elena met us at the airport and pointed out a few sights along the way as we drove home. Once at home we had a nice dinner courtesy of Tony, followed by Lindor chocolate truffles for desert, and went to bed. We had to be up early the next morning because we were flying to Luoyang, in the Henan province, where we would be hosted by the provincial government and the Luoyang Institute of Science and Technology.
During our flight, an older Chinese woman realized she was seated next to us and immediately proceeded to complain to the flight attendants, asking whether she and her travel buddy could move to the two empty seats in the row in front of us. They told her no. She was visibly nervous on account of Charlie and me. She kept staring at us and clutched her purse tightly the entire time, even after the flight attendant told her she could stow it in the seat-back pocket during lunch service. Once the lunch service ended and the flight attendants were out of sight, she jumped out of her seat and into one of the aforementioned vacant ones. She still turned around to stare at us a few more times, but finally relaxed enough to put her purse down and take a nap. I don’t mind being stared at because people are curious about me (I do it to other people all the time), but I do mind being treated like a criminal.
As I would soon find out, that particular woman’s staring problem was only the beginning. People here stare unabashedly, even with their mouths hanging open. If they are walking in front of you, they will turn around to begin staring at you, stop, and wait for you to pass so that they can stare longer. At first it made me a little uncomfortable, but now I have decided to just stare back. It works. They will eventually realize what they are doing and look away. Charlie had warned me about the staring, but it wasn’t really noticeable until we got out of Beijing to Luoyang, where I am pretty sure we are the only westerners.
Once in Luoyang, we were welcomed by our hosts from the Institute who had arranged the trip. They even presented Elena and me with flowers, which was very sweet but a little embarrassing for me. I have never been treated like such a VIP as I have here in Luoyang. I have also never felt like such a freak, thanks to all the staring.
We were accompanied to our hotel by a very friendly woman from the Institute named Lisa, who gave us a brief history and some facts about Luoyang while in route to our hotel. Among some of those facts is that it is one of the four ancient capitals of China and boasts the oldest Buddhist temple in the country. I was completely overwhelmed during this car ride to the hotel. I looked out the windows the entire time, camera in hand, not even knowing where to start. I tried to snap a few shots and considered just doing a video, but couldn’t really decide at what exactly I wanted to point the camera. Luoyang was exactly what I guess I always pictured China would be like, perhaps because of the pictures in National Geographic or my social studies books in school. It is not a small town by any means. The pollution is almost as bad as it is in Beijing, the traffic is insane (more on that later), and there is a lot of new construction everywhere. The thing I found the most beautiful about it was how sort of run down some places looked, as if they had been there a really long time. There is a dingy brownness to everything, dotted by bright flashes of red, either in the form of lamps and other such décor or giant Chinese lettering.
The manner in which people move here - the way cars, motorcycles, bicycles and pedestrians all interact with each other - is definitely the most intriguing thing thus far. I was told that the goal of Chinese driving is never to stop, and from what I have observed it is definitely true. Drivers and pedestrians alike blatantly ignore traffic signals, weave between lanes, sometimes just driving on the line (we actually were three cars wide on a two-lane road at one point when a driver decided he wanted to pass a car even though we were right next to it). Drivers cut each other off, turn in front of oncoming traffic, pedestrians just cross the street whenever they feel like it and drivers do not slow down for them, cars edge their way onto packed sidewalks for quick temporary parking, infants sit unrestrained on laps in the front seats of cars or snuggled between mom and dad on a motorcycle, etc.
The most impressive were the bicyclists, possibly the boldest I have ever seen. These people are so confident in their ability to navigate in traffic that actually I would not mind sharing the road with them since they know what they are doing. I saw many bikes stacked several feet high with goods, people sharing bikes intended for one person, and bikes with little trailers – my favorite one was the one operated by a little old man towing his little old wife in the trailer behind him. Despite the chaos, I never really feared for my life unless I was actually crossing the street and wasn’t close to a large impenetrable crowd of pedestrians. I had the strong sense that, for the most part, these people really know what they are doing on the road.
Our arrival at our hotel was cause for stifled laughter all the way up to our rooms. We had apparently checked into the Starship Enterprise. Everything is space-themed to a corny degree. There are even “teleporters” on the ceiling, but they don’t beam you up. Here are a few shots.
Beam
Fortunately the room comes with a psychiatrist’s couch so that you can lie down and reflect on your feelings about this very bizarre experience.
For some reason the mirror in the bathroom has a circular window tunneling through it, so that you can pretty much count on zero privacy if someone is in the room next you. Oh, there is a curtain you can pull over it, but then you can’t see the mirror. Well done, people.
The view from our hotel window.
We quickly dressed for dinner and then met Elena down in the lobby for some time-killing tourism while Tony was in a meeting. Our guide, Jim, who is a Russian teacher at the institute, took us to a beautiful park, (possible Wengchang?) that is apparently built on top of an ancient city.
This is a large rock formation at the entrance. There were frogs croaking loudly from somewhere on or around it but we couldn’t find them.
The park was gigantic. We spent a good 45 minutes there and, according to Jim, only saw a quarter of it. In the middle of the park was a giant man-made lake. Here are a few more shots.
We made our way back to the car where we were to be driven to another hotel for a formal dinner with a collection of important dudes in black suits, including the vice-governor of the province, the mayor of Luoyang, and several other important people pertaining to the institute. Fortunately for Charlie and I, Lisa was seated next to us so that she could interpret and fill us in on the cultural do’s and don’t’s, the latter of which we committed several times anyway. The table was a beautiful spread of a variety of foods and in addition to it, the wait staff kept bringing out other dishes, mostly soups.
The first soup we were served was part of what is called a “Water Banquet”, a traditional meal from Luoyang consisting of 28 soup-based dishes. We did not have the entire water banquet, but will (stay tuned). Here are a few of the dishes we enjoyed:
Shrimp presented with a sculpture of a goldfish constructed entirely of almond paste (not edible). As you can see in the background, it is perfectly acceptable in China to put your face into your bowl and slurp the food out loudly.
These were essentially pork rinds, fried bits of port skin. They were fresh and soft, however, not dried like the ones most of you are used to.
Julienned duck. This was extremely yummy.
This was a crispy type of biscuit sprinkled with sesame seeds. You crack them open and fill them with the oniony stuffing you see in the upper-right corner.
I wish I could say the dinner went smashingly for me. It did for most everyone else. The issue was that there is this toast that the Chinese do where they come to your seat, you stand up, and they say some lovely well-wishing words and then you must take a shot or a gulp of wine with them. Charlie and I don’t drink so this was particularly awkward for us. We tried pretending to drink, but they called us out on it. We tried explaining that we did not drink alcohol, as Lisa had instructed, and it still seemed to be slightly off-putting. Finally, after seeing Lisa toast with her tea, I tried that and didn’t have any issues… and of course, that was the last of about 6 rounds. The whole ordeal made me so anxious that I could hardly enjoy the food because I just kept worrying about upsetting very important people at a diplomatic function.
Following the feast we made our way about half a mile down the road to watch the “music fountain”, a display similar to that at the Bellagio in Vegas. Our guide from earlier in the day, Jim, described it as the “largest one in nature”. I assumed that he meant “the largest one in the world”. It was pretty damn big, but it was so loud outside that you could barely hear the music. The most impressive thing about the experience was the hordes of people everywhere, coming out to enjoy themselves. There are a particular large number in town right now because of the Peony Festival. Many paid attention to the fountain, but most were just hanging out, enjoying each others’ company and eating snacks being sold out of little carts. One of these delights was candied haw, a type of crabapple on a stick dipped in a sweet syrup. This was one of Charlie’s favorite snacks as a kid, but it wasn’t really my thing. I don’t much like apples, and especially not sour ones.
We made our way back to our hotel and had to endure the hardest bed I have ever felt. Seriously, if you plop down on it too hard you run the risk of your spine shattering or shooting out the top of your head. I got up at one point to try out the psychiatrist's couch but it was apparently made of the same hard material and, as I found out the next morning, so were the couches in the sitting area. Apparently there is no such thing as comfort in space. At breakfast, (by the way, I LOVE Chinese food for breakfast) I was greeted by Lisa who asked if I slept well. “Yes”, I lied.
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